


Close the Gates

by And_Dream_Of_Erebor



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Erebor, Gen, Gold Sickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 12:10:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2191323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/And_Dream_Of_Erebor/pseuds/And_Dream_Of_Erebor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the movie-verse immediately after the ending of Desolation of Smaug. Thorin's first impulse is to go after the dragon, but an unknown force is trying to change his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close the Gates

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt from the Hobbit kink meme: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/6263.html?thread=15035767#t15035767

"I am Fire! I am Death!"

For a few moments it was raining gold, as Smaug shook the molten metal off his wings. Then the golden mist cleared. The Company could now see the hole in the stone wall where the dragon had burst through the mountain and, through it, a winged silhouette on the red evening sky. The dragon made a few circles -- for a terrible moment it looked as if he was going to come back -- but then he turned south, following the course of the river, became smaller and finally disappeared from view.

Everyone was silent for a few moments. Then the hobbit spoke, in a quivering voice: "What have we done?"  
"He flew downstream," Balin said. "Thorin! He flew downstream. He is going to Laketown!"  
"To Laketown!" Thorin said, staring at the red opening in the wall. "Fili and Kili are there!"  
"And my brother!" Gloin said. Bifur pulled Bombur by the sleeve and gestured something to him.  
"Yes, and Bofur too," Bombur said, placing a hand on Bifur's shoulder.

All eyes were on Thorin. He clenched his fists, and then drew the axe fastened to his belt, one of the somewhat usable weapons they had taken from Laketown. He held it up and watched it as it reflected the red light of the evening, threw it from one hand to the other as if testing its weight, pressed his fingers carefully to the blade.  
"This will be of no use," he said and threw the axe away. It fell into the pool of molten gold from which the dragon had emerged only minutes ago, turned a glowing yellow, and then sank. "We'll need bows and arrows, spears, crossbows. There's plenty of weapons among the treasure. Let's go, quickly!"

He led the way through stone hallways, down stairways and into the great dungeon-hall full of treasure. The dwarves and the hobbit followed, Dwalin first among them. There was no need for secrecy now that Smaug was no longer there, but they were aware that he could return at any time and that they had to work quickly. Upon reaching the hall they lit all the torches they could find and placed them in sconces on the walls, and soon a fiery light was dancing over the gold and gems -- over the seemingly endless sea of gold and gems. But there was also iron and bronze and stone in this sea, objects designed for war and not for adornment, and soon they were all up to their knees in gold, digging out anything that might be useful.  
"Let's spread out!" Dwalin called out. "But stay within sight of each other! We must be prepared to retreat quickly if -- if there's need to do so."  
The dwarves obeyed but Dwalin and Balin, as always, stayed close to Thorin. It was not long before Nori exclaimed that he'd found a large crossbow. He had never used one before, though, so he wasn't able to tell whether it was still functional. His brothers gathered around him, and together they tried to fire a bolt at the wall.

"I'd better help them, or they might shoot themselves," Dwalin muttered and walked over to them. Balin busied himself opening a large wooden chest, and Thorin moved to a large recess in the wall. It was full of statues and golden cups, but he was sure his eye had caught a quiver full of arrows amongst them. He was right. The quiver was beautifully decorated, but that was of no importance. What mattered was that the arrows were excellent: their heads were of volcanic glass, hard and sharp enough to pierce even a dragon's scales, and the wood of the shafts hadn't lost its strength through the years. He could hear the other dvarwes exclaiming that they, too, had found weapons. They were almost ready to go after the dragon.

_Isn't that a foolish thing to do, though? The sun has already set. Soon it will be completely dark, and even in daylight you would never get to Laketown in time. Why attempt to do this foolish, heroic thing when it means leaving all the gold unprotected? The gold of which you were deprived all these years?_

Thorin felt his pulse quicken. The thought was unwelcome; he couldn't understand where it came from. He thought of Fili and Kili, his own blood, left in Laketown; of Oin and Bofur, who had been brave and loyal to him throughout the journey. He thought of the people of Laketown, who had been so delighted to welcome the King Beneath the Mountain. Of course they were going after the dragon. Of course they were.  
He leant against the stone wall. Its coldness felt soothing on his skin, as if it had been set afire by the glow of the gold. He held the quiver tightly, closed his eyes and imagined shooting the arrows, one by one, into the belly of the cursed beast. It felt so right. But when he opened his eyes, the figures of the other dwarves in the hall seemed distant and blurred, and all he could see clearly was a sea of gold, glittering in the firelight, calling to him.

_Are you really going to leave your rightful inheritance here, unguarded, now that the dragon is gone and the gate is damaged? Everyone knows about the gold of Erebor, everyone desires it! Is that how you want to be remembered: as the king who won back his gold, only to give it away so foolishly?_

Thorin gripped the quiver more tightly. He moved his hand up to grab and placed it on the arrowheads so that he could feel their sharpness on his palm, almost breaking the skin. he needed to wake up from this... whatever it was. In Azanulbizar he had charged into almost certain death without any hesitation. What was happening to his courage and honour now, now that he had to stop the danger he had unleashed and to save his sister's sons?

_But what kind of future would you be saving them for, Thorin, son of Thrain? You have come so close to winning their kingdom for them, and now you would allow it to be stolen away again! Do you want Fili to live like you have lived, a king without a kingdom, while the gold of Erebor is scattered among dragons, orcs, elves, men and who knows who else?_

Thorin turned around to face the wall and rest his forehead on the cold stone. He needed to think clearly, but it was becoming harder and harder to understand what was right and what was wrong. Then an image came to his mind and made his heart beat faster. He remembered what Thror had been like in the last years before the dragon came: it was as if a shadow had fallen over him and turned him into a stranger. Could this be... could the same thing be happening...  
Something stopped him from finishing that thought.  
He turned around again. He felt a strong need to seek the others, to hear their words. But once again the members of his Company were just blurry silhouettes, and the gold was clear and sharp and bright, more true than anything else.

Three of the dwarves were approaching him now -- no, he corrected himself when they came closer, two dwarves and the halfling. He looked at them helplessly, as if he were asking them for something but couldn't quite understand what it was.  
"Thorin, are you all right?" the burglar asked hesitantly.  
"The gold... It is speaking to me!" Thorin blurted out.  
The halfling took a step back and clutched at the breast pocket of his coat, as if Thorin's words had reminded him of something painful.

One of the dwarves -- it was Balin -- put a hand on Thorin's shoulder and asked:  
"What do you mean, my dear boy?"  
Thorin tried to answer, but the words escaped him.

"We are all armed and armoured now, and ready to go," Dwalin told him.  
"No!" Thorin said so loudly and abruptly that the others took a step back. He even felt surprised himself. But he went on:  
"It would be foolish to go after the dragon. What is done is done. We must stay here and close the Gate. Defend it against the dragon, if he comes back -- or against anything else that may come."  
"But, Thorin..." Balin started, but Thorin would not listen.  
"This is a command! Close the Gate. There are blocks of stone waiting in the mines. We need to gather wood for the scaffolding. Make the Gate thick and strong, stronger than it was before. Leave only a few small windows in it, so that the guards can observe and shoot. Go!"

After a few moments of silence, Dwalin and Balin answered with silent nods -- or perhaps bows -- and Dwalin took command over the work that needed to be done. Soon they all took the stairway that led down to the mines, even the halfling. No one would have expected the burglar to work in the mines, but he seemed reluctant to be left alone with Thorin.  
Left alone in the hall full of treasure, Thorin reached down and took an armful of gold, and then allowed it to fall through his fingers. He couldn't understand it. He had finally achieved his greatest wish, the purpose he had lived. Why, then, did he have this strange feeling that something was lost?


End file.
